Why is it that long after I will forget my niece’s bat mitzvah weekend I’ll still remember the moment that my watch band broke just as I was standing up from urinating and my watch fell right into the bowl?
If only the decision of when to get out were this quick and clear cut: whether to leave a country or place that is home but no longer feels congenial; a love that is gone; an old friend/family member who persistently sends odious political or other offensive messages despite pleas to stop that could be cut off or sent to SPAM. The Final Countdown---slowly, 1-2-3 -- unlock that seat belt and jump out! The right ride to Galilee may or may not come but, either way, it's not a punch in the face.
I never knew soup could be a narrative form until I read your description. The idea of fresh versus canned stories made me think about memory and experience—the things we serve up hot and the things we simmer.
"A singular moment in life with no dilemmas and no remorse. Everything simple, everything clear, it’s all up to you, just do it. One. Two. Three." I think I may be an outlier here, but these sentences brought me to tears.
With apologies for the dark taste (it's an old joke):
> So one day a Bedouin man asks his neighbor "hey, how come you and your wife never fight?"
"Well when we first got married we went on our honeymoon on a long trip through the desert (as is tradition) riding our single donkey on the way.
Well, the donkey carries us for a while, but after about twenty kilometers it suddenly decides it's tired and refuse to walk another step. So I get off, look him in the eye, and say "donkey. first warning"
Well I get back on and the donkey agrees to walk again but after ten more kilometers it once again stops and refuses to walk another step. So I get off and I look him in the eye and I say "donkey. Second warning."
Well I get back on and he starts walking again for a while but then after five more kilometers he stops and refuses to take another step.
So I get off, take out my gun, and shoot him right on the head.
So my wife gets mad and starts yelling at me about how now we're stuck in the middle of the desert with no transportation and no idea where we are and what the hell am I doing and what will we do next.
So I walk up to her, look her carefully in the eye and say "wife. First warning."
"I am going to count to three, and if you don't..." That sounds just like typical "parenting" in 1950. As kids, we knew very clearly what the consequences would be and how much time we had, and we paid attention. Guess you have to appreciate that the driver didn't just whip your ass without warning... What a story!
That was frightening! What an experience!
What a moment!
Why is it that long after I will forget my niece’s bat mitzvah weekend I’ll still remember the moment that my watch band broke just as I was standing up from urinating and my watch fell right into the bowl?
Emily! I believe we bought our wristwatches at the same store🌧️
I tell my son, learn from your mistakes. Perfect example.
If only the decision of when to get out were this quick and clear cut: whether to leave a country or place that is home but no longer feels congenial; a love that is gone; an old friend/family member who persistently sends odious political or other offensive messages despite pleas to stop that could be cut off or sent to SPAM. The Final Countdown---slowly, 1-2-3 -- unlock that seat belt and jump out! The right ride to Galilee may or may not come but, either way, it's not a punch in the face.
I never knew soup could be a narrative form until I read your description. The idea of fresh versus canned stories made me think about memory and experience—the things we serve up hot and the things we simmer.
A singular moment of revelation - that's what the world needs ! Thank you!
"A singular moment in life with no dilemmas and no remorse. Everything simple, everything clear, it’s all up to you, just do it. One. Two. Three." I think I may be an outlier here, but these sentences brought me to tears.
May all my moments be so thoroughly lived.
Reminds me of the joke about the Bedouin couple with the donkey
Don’t know this one.
With apologies for the dark taste (it's an old joke):
> So one day a Bedouin man asks his neighbor "hey, how come you and your wife never fight?"
"Well when we first got married we went on our honeymoon on a long trip through the desert (as is tradition) riding our single donkey on the way.
Well, the donkey carries us for a while, but after about twenty kilometers it suddenly decides it's tired and refuse to walk another step. So I get off, look him in the eye, and say "donkey. first warning"
Well I get back on and the donkey agrees to walk again but after ten more kilometers it once again stops and refuses to walk another step. So I get off and I look him in the eye and I say "donkey. Second warning."
Well I get back on and he starts walking again for a while but then after five more kilometers he stops and refuses to take another step.
So I get off, take out my gun, and shoot him right on the head.
So my wife gets mad and starts yelling at me about how now we're stuck in the middle of the desert with no transportation and no idea where we are and what the hell am I doing and what will we do next.
So I walk up to her, look her carefully in the eye and say "wife. First warning."
"I am going to count to three, and if you don't..." That sounds just like typical "parenting" in 1950. As kids, we knew very clearly what the consequences would be and how much time we had, and we paid attention. Guess you have to appreciate that the driver didn't just whip your ass without warning... What a story!
How do you say "One, Two, Three" in Hebrew?
Acht , Shtiem , Shlosh
אחת, שתיים , שלוש
A very good observation, Janice. I was going to comment in a similar vein, but you said it better.
I know of a few people who have had something similar happen to them... they were just luckier in terms of the nature of the involuntary driver.
Good stories happen to people who can tell 'em. And jeez can Etgar Keret tell em. Keep em coming,please and "toda," gracias, thank you for all of em.
If only our choices were always this clear. ? Is what made you think of this today?
Yes. There is that feeling that things stopped being clear and that I have became more passive.